Notice
by SouthOfFerelden
Summary: There were many things that Lady Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast, Seeker and 78th in line to the Nevarran Throne, had come to notice about the Herald of Andraste. Cassandra realises her feelings for the Herald of Andraste might not be entirely professional.


There were many things that Lady Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast, Seeker and 78th in line to the Nevarran Throne, had come to notice about the Herald of Andraste. Since the Herald and his mark were now considered a crucial part of the Inquisition, she had more time with him in the field and the safety of Haven.

Cassandra shivers slightly, the cool night air chilling her to her bones and making her wish they had made it back to the slightly warmer shelter of Haven. She tugs at the tunic around her shoulders, drawing it tighter to her body. She glances up from looking into the last dying embers of the fire and sees him across the camp. The Herald, Lord Trevelyan, is huddled over what appear to be maps and requisition reports. He stamps his feet into the ground obviously feeling the cold too, she sees him bring his hands up to his mouth puffing warm breath into them trying to get warm.

His dedication is obvious to anyone. The Herald had been thrust into this fight through no fault of his own and very nearly executed for crimes he had not been guilty of. Cassandra would have understood completely if he had turned tail and taken off in the opposite direction as fast as any horse could carry him. From what she knew of his family, they were a well-respected noble family of good standing and means. He had grown up as any noble boy does, surrounded by other nobles and the promise of a good future. Now he was preparing to face whatever darkness was out there waiting for them far from his family and life in Ostwick. He spent most of his time now recruiting in the lands of Thedas and trying to keep its residents safe. That meant that wherever he went, she would go too.

Cassandra sighs; thinking of family always brings back the wave of grief of losing her own family, of her parents, of Anthony. She wishes she had more to show for her lineage than bickering relatives fighting for the throne and a vault full of Dragon Skulls. Her hand instinctively moves to her throat where a small locket hangs. It had been her grandmothers and still contained a picture of Anthony. She had seen the Herald rubbing his fingers over a similar, most likely sentimental medallion many times when things got tough or he was deep in thought. He did that a lot, he would suddenly go quiet as if he was trying to solve all of the world's problems alone. His brow would crease and Cassandra was sure she was getting to glimpse upon what it would look like if you really did have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Cassandra had noticed from the moment she had first met the Herald how sharp his mind was.

He spent hours bent over dusty tombs and parchments trying to expand his mind and discover any vital information he could about what they were facing. He asked question after question to everyone that he met, wanting to know their history and how they might aid their fight. He searched the Hinterlands, The Coast, and The Plains tirelessly for more knowledge. Cassandra had noticed that his favourite person to question was her but she was not sure what he felt he would gain by knowing what her favourite flower was or how she liked to drink her tea. She had also noticed how much he enjoyed to mentally spa with some of their other companions. The Herald loved a good debate on the subject of Mages, Politics and Tevinter and would often leave his new group of friends speechless, unable to think of anything more to further their argument. The Rouge was a clever man, Cassandra thought, and not because of any schooling he received in Ostwick. For all the time that he had shown her his wit and charm, it was his mind that had impressed her the most so far.

The Seeker turns her attention to the man stood with his back to her. She notices the assorted pouches tied at his waist along with the small curved blade at his side. He didn't have any extreme attachment to his weapons like Varric did with his crossbow but he did treat them well and knew how to use them. Her eyes pause at the twin blades strapped to The Herald's back. Cassandra had come to notice while fighting side by side with The Herald, what an accomplished and skilled fighter he really is. She wondered where he would have learnt such skill with a blade and why a noble, presumably one that had guards and high walls to protect him, would ever need to learn to fight the way he did. At first she had found his fighting style annoying and distracting. Seeing him dart around all over the place, leaping and jumping to distract their targets delivering killing blows often unseen was frustrating to her. Cassandra had been trained by Seekers and Templars, taught to stand her ground and face her enemy head on. Her shield was an extension of her body and she used her blade with deadly power. It hadn't taken long however for Cassandra to begin to appreciate his style, she thought. She had soon learnt the way he moved, he quick and agile as if carried by magic and she soon saw the beauty in every movement he made. They began working together complimenting each other's actions, flowing together like water and mirroring each other like long lost lovers. Where they had previously got in each other's way and often ending up tangled, they now dodged, turned and moved around each other as a well-practiced dance pair. She was glad to no longer be bashing him around the head with her shield or him tripping her up with a sweep of his leg. Of course, none of this had ever been vocalized between them Cassandra had noticed. They had just begun to fit.

Cassandra is drawn away from looking at The Herald to see that a messenger has entered the party with some information for him, no doubt from the Spy Master Lelina back at Skyhold. She notices the respectful way that he speaks to the messenger and the way that the messenger responds positively to him. Cassandra was glad that the man chosen to help them fix the rifts was as approachable as The Herald, she shudders to think what would have happened if Andraste had sent someone difficult to spend time with. None of them knew how long this was going to take and even she had to admit, being in the Heralds company was a pleasant experience.

She thinks about all the people The Herald has brought together since arriving at Skyhold. An unlikely band of misfits indeed, but the talent and skill of their party was undeniable. Cassandra had noticed that the Herald was turning into a fine leader and people were willing to follow his command without question. Their commitment to him was comforting and their blind faith in his cause overwhelming. Cassandra had noticed the way he gave orders and rallied his companions, his manor was gentle but assertive. He didn't rely on barking orders or showing his authority over them, he told them what he wanted and they happily complied. Cassandra had found this difficult to understand, in her world there had always been Knight-Commanders, Lord Seekers and controlling Uncles. Respect lead to respect and the Herald was a clear example of this. She wondered what he planned to do when everything was settled and the world was ready to return to normal, maybe he would lead House Trevelyan to higher things or opt for some time with a military group. Cassandra knew nothing was impossible for the Herald, he could accomplish anything he set his mind to she knew. That handsome rouge was the complete package.

She shakes her head trying to clear the thoughts of how handsome their Herald is. She looks over him again and to his features. Her eyes trail across every inch of him as if surveying a painting or sculpture. Tall, but not as tall as Bull. A broad chest and back with well-defined muscles that you would expect to see from someone that has trained hard. A strong jaw and chin show strength and masculinity, while his smooth tanned skin shows health and vitality. His hair is cut short and is a dark brown colour that reminds her of the war table at Haven. Very pleasing to the eye.

"Control yourself Cassandra" She mumbles quietly to herself. She had promised to lock down all feelings of that kind after what happened at the Conclave. Her mission was much more important than paying attention to such trivial things as a handsome man. She lets her eyes travel lower down his back, his waist. Cassandra's eyes fly back up to meet his when she realizes he has turned to look at her. A small blush creeps onto her cheeks when she notices the smile in his eyes.

The Herald, Cassandra had noticed, happened to have the deepest and loveliest brown eyes that Lady Cassandra had ever had the privilege to gaze into. They seemed to twinkle with mischief when he found another opportunity make her blush with his compliments and flirting. She had also seen them darken with jealousy when he probed her with questions about having a special someone waiting for her at home. But most of all Cassandra had noted that his beautiful brown eyes would meet hers with a look concern anytime things got a little dangerous in their wanderings.

"May I join you?"

The Herald has ceased his task and is now quickly closing the gap between them and proceeding to lower himself to the floor next to her. The warmth of his body suddenly so close to hers makes the red in her cheeks burn even more. He prods the fire with the toe of his boot settling himself with his shoulder touching hers.

"If it would please you.."

The small turn at the corner of his mouth and Cassandra immediately regrets saying this knowing that she has set herself up for a comment from the Herald about pleasing him.

His lips look soft and Cassandra can't help but wonder what they would feel like against hers. This only makes her blush deepen imagining the things she wouldn't mind being whispered to her in the dark by the Herald. She smiles thinking about how his mouth looks when he laughs. There is no denying he is a handsome man and no doubt very popular with both lords and ladies throughout Thedas. Many times while he made excuses to come and speak to her when she was alone or when they would fall behind the rest of the party to spend some time talking and walking together, he would tease her and she knew purposefully try to make her frustrated and angry with him. Oh how he frustrated her. So much so that they would end up laughing together at his attempt to rile her. Cassandra had noticed how good it had felt to laugh with him, her life had not been full of the happiest times lately and spending time with him had brought her a joy she hadn't felt for a long time. The unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in her stomach she tried to force down were ever present when he looked at her.

"Spending time with you always pleases me" He insists. Cassandra smiles a little at this comment before giving him her best disgusted noise. "I see the feeling is mutal" The Herald laughs giving her a little shove knocking his shoulder against hers.

"Spending your time with me wont fix the hole in the sky" Cassandra replies glancing up to see yet another rift has opened in the distance and is radiating its poisonous looking mist and bright green glow. She notices how The Herald winces slightly, the mark on his hand bursting to life. It flashes and crackles in response to the fade rift nearby.

"No" He replies lifting his hand prodding at the mark "But it gives me something to do, other than worrying about this thing killing me" he gives her a smile, one that she doesn't return.

"Does it hurt?" She asks casting her eyes down to his hand. If she'd been braver, or maybe a little more reckless she might have taken it in hers.

"You always ask me that" The Herald says with a smile, turning to look at her once more. He rests his arms on his knees again bunching his hands into fists trying to ignore the glowing and ache.

"and you always lie to me" Cassandra snorts.

"I never lie to you Seeker. I just protect you from the truth" Cassandra shakes her head hearing this. "I wasn't lying when I said I enjoyed being with you, Lady Pentaghast" He catches her eye again making her blush. She wasn't sure what he thought he was protecting her from but she was certain he was keeping things from her.

"What truths are those?" She replies unblinking.

"Maybe I'm not the right man for this job"

"Andraste sent you, Herald" Cassandra replies "You are the only man for this job" she says truly believing that. Cassandra knew that he had been sent to save them and to complete this task that had been entrusted to them. Even if he didn't believe in himself, she certainly did.

"Then I hope I am up to the task, for all of our sakes" The Herald replies with a little more positivity in his voice.

"You are a better man than you give yourself credit for Herald" Cassandra says quietly noticing the way his posture changes and settles against her more. She looks to him again as he moves his arm to rest his hand on the ground behind her. This move draws them closer and Cassandra is suddenly very aware of how close they are. The Seeker notices she has closed her eyes and is waiting expentantly for him to kiss her. What was wrong with her.

"I guess it's getting late.." he suddenly says pulling away from her and making a move to take his leave with an embarrassed cough.

"Herald.." Cassandra begins

"Yes Seeker?" He asks glancing sideways at her again.

"I just wanted you to know.." Cassandra pauses not wanting to sound like a fool with her next words. She chooses them carefully continuing "I enjoy spending time in your company too.. and that I believe in you" Cassandra notices the twinkle in his eye and the smile that he cant keep from his face. Suddenly the warmth from beside her is gone and he is stood in front of her, his hand outstretched in a gesture offering to help her to her feet. Cassandra pauses looking up at the outstretched hand.

The Herald had the most gentle of hands she had noticed. Cassandra had decided that this was mainly due to his noble upbringing and the strong possibility that until the day he was thrown out of the sky and into her life, he had probably not had to get his hands dirty. The Seeker wasn't known for making a habit out of holding the hand of strange men that fall out of the sky, but many times when exchanging herbs or passing reports to one another she had found his hand would linger against hers for longer than was expected. Cassandra loved the way that the Herald would motion with his hands when he was explaining something or carried away with a story he was telling her while watching her spar outside the gates. The Seeker couldn't help but notice that the Herald was a talented man and there wasn't a Door, Chest or Heart that that Rouge wouldn't find his way into.

"Then maybe the Maker had another reason for bringing us together my Lady" He says glancing down at their hands. She notices he pulls his hand back when he realizes he has offered the hand with the Mark and seems ashamed to have done it. Not wanting to appear ungrateful for the gesture or equally like a fawning maiden, swooning at his touch. Cassandra reaches for his marked hand again and places her hand in his. She allows him to help her to her feet.

"I'm not afraid when you are here" Cassandra tells him as she moves to occupy the space in front of him dropping his hand. "We will face this together Herald" Cassandra beckons to the quiet camp "all of us"

"Here.." The Herald reaches into his pocket pulling something out in his fist. He takes her hand again passing the contents onto her palm, closing her hand around the small item. "Good night Lady Pentaghast" The Herald replies with a smile and a bow of his head. She bows her head in response looking into his eyes before watching him move across the camp and retreat to his bedroll.

Cassandra feels the item in her hand; it is light in weight almost weighing nothing at all and an unusual feeling on her palm. She opens her fingers slowly unsure of what she is going to find, when she sees what it is her breath catches. Sitting central in her palm is a small but perfectly formed dried flower. Cassandra examines the bright blue petals closely feeling a wave of emotion wash over her. The Herald had given her a Nevarran Blue Star flower that had been carefully dried and preserved. She looks up quickly to see if the Herald is still there but doesn't see him anywhere. Cassandra stands completely still staring at the flower, she had told him it was her favourite when he had asked thinking he would understand that she was trying to be purposely difficult and evasive by naming that one. Cassandra decides she would have to teach the Herald about Dragons. Cassandra wonders how he had managed to retrieve this particular flower knowing it only grew in one place in the whole of Thedas and that is The Silent Plains of her home Nevarra. Her mind spins thinking of the lengths he must have gone to to give it to her as a gift. Cassandra had never even seen one apart from in the pages of books.

"I didn't kill the Dragon that was guarding it, if that's what you are worried about" His voice floats across the camp to her again. She looks up to meet his gaze again "I'm quick on my feet and good with my hands" He says beaming at her. Cassandra just nods her thanks not knowing what to say to him. So he had listened when she had told him about her brother Anthony being a Slayer and her views now on the pointless waste of life and Dragon Slaying that her family were obsessed with.

"Thank you" she begins "It is beautiful" she adds reaching to the locket at her throat again. Cassandra turns the clasp of the locket opening it up, she places the small flower on the opposite side to the picture of her brother before closing it tightly wanting to keep the precious contents safe.

"I will keep it forever" Cassandra says looking up only to see that she is alone again. She sighs wrapping her hand around the locket again. The Herald was definitely full of surprises she had noticed, and he was he was capturing more of her attention everyday. Cassandra wondered if she would ever be able to repay such an extravagant gesture and as she tried to sleep that night her mind continued to list everything else wonderful about the Herald that she had noticed.

The thing, however, that Lady Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast, Seeker and 78th in line to the Nevarran Throne, had come to notice most about the Herald of Andraste was that she was falling for him. That was a terrifying thought.


End file.
